


Ghost Amis

by buckgaybarnes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Ghost Adventures AU, Ghosts (but not really), M/M, Mutual Pining, Paranormal Investigators AU, a classic 'pretending your apartment is haunted so a hot guy will investigate' AU, bordering into the realm of Crack, enjolras channels his inner zak bagans, general ridiculousness with very little logic or reasoning on the author's part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 07:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12476452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckgaybarnes/pseuds/buckgaybarnes
Summary: "My name is Enjolras. I never believed in ghosts until I came face to face with one. So I set out on a quest to capture what I once saw onto video. With no big camera crews following us around, I am joined only by my fellow investigator Courfeyrac and our equipment tech Combeferre. The three of us will travel to some of the most highly active paranormal locations, where we will spend an entire night, being locked down from dusk until dawn....Raw...Extreme...We are the Ghost Amis."In which Enjolras has a paranormal investigation reality TV show, and Grantaire has a crush and a plan. Now all he needs is a ghost.





	Ghost Amis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RachelAnne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelAnne/gifts).



> set in an alternate reality wherein enjolras channels his passionate fervor into ghost hunting, apparently. totally ridiculous, little to no exposition or regard for how quickly tv is produced or correct geography, wildly self-indulgent, and probably wildly ooc at times (enjolras and co. do, after all, hunt ghosts), so some suspension of disbelief may be required
> 
> a halloween/belated birthday/early christmas/apology-for-not-shutting-the-fuck-up-about-newt-geiszler-since-march present for my friend, the lovely rachel! i had a lot of fun writing this (even if it did take me a year) and i hope you have a lot of fun reading it  
> also dedicated, to a lesser extent, to the man the myth the legend zak bagans, without whom this would not be possible. i'd take a bullet for you, zak (and then come back as a ghost so i can be on your show)

**Ghost Amis Headquarters (Bahorel’s Basement)**

**September 1st, 9 pm:**

Enjolras was on his fourth cup of Fair Trade Certified dark roast coffee of the evening and feeling the beginnings of a headache when Courfeyrac walked into the room and dropped a stack of envelopes on his desk. They fell over with a depressing _whoosh_ , and Enjolras felt it reverberate in his soul. He looked at them, and then Courfeyrac, with dead eyes.

“More submissions for the Halloween special,” Courfeyrac said cheerfully. “Marius meant to drop them off earlier but forgot.”

What had actually happened was that Marius had dropped them off last Tuesday, but Courfeyrac and Bahorel were three movies into a _Mission Impossible_ marathon when he stopped by the office (Bahorel’s living room) and the submissions had gotten lost under several empty pizza boxes and a sofa cushion. Courfeyrac elected not to disclose this information.

Enjolras picked up the bent manila envelope on the top. There was something orange and sticky on it. “Is this…Mountain Dew?” he said, making a face and dropping it back onto the pile.

Courfeyrac remained impassive. “Maybe?” You need a lot of caffeine in order to fully enjoy Tom Cruise at his finest.

Enjolras wiped his fingers on his jeans. “If he wasn’t dating Cosette…” he said, and trailed off warily.

If Marius wasn’t dating Cosette, Cosette’s Travel Channel board exec dad would never have offered to let them pitch a TV show under the provision that Marius (who was a freshman at their college the year Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac were graduating) be given an internship with them in the first place, and they probably wouldn’t have a job, but that was besides the point. Marius had graduated from unpaid intern to paid errand boy three years ago and he should know well enough by now Enjolras expected professionalism.

Combeferre joined them at Enjolras's desk and began to shift through the pile. He held up an exceptionally thick envelope, marked with  _FRAGILE,_ that had been at the bottom. He frowned. "It doesn't feel like a photograph or a letter," he said. "More like...a disc?"

Courfeyrac grabbed the envelope from him and ripped it open. "Oh _man_ ," he said. There was a DVD inside, and Courfeyrac waved it around excitedly. "Someone sent in a  _video_! We've never gotten one of those before. I vote we start with this one."

When Enjolras and Combeferre offered no protest, Courfeyrac hurried over to the television, stuck it in the DVD player, and hit play.

* * *

_[The shot opens on a small apartment complex. It’s grainy, filmed with what is clearly either a cell phone camera or a cheap camcorder. A voiceover starts.]_

_Voiceover (male, dramatically deep): 72 Hugo Boulevard._ _You might say it's an apartment building like any other._

_[Stock footage of children riding their bikes, an old couple sitting on a bench, someone walking their dog, while calming music plays in the background. They’re all very obviously nowhere near the apartment building. The last one took place on a beach.]_

_Voiceover: You could say that...but you’d be wrong._

_[Music fades and camera cuts to a shot of the building again, except now the footage is in black and white. A guy with curly hair wearing both a suit and a beanie stands in front of it, looking serious.]_

* * *

“Oh my god,” said Courfeyrac. Enjolras did a doubletake.

* * *

_[A new shot. The guy is now standing at the end of a hallway, looking pensively out of a window. He turns to look at the camera dramatically.]_

_Guy (same as voiceover): My name is Grantaire. And my apartment is haunted._

_[New shot. Grantaire is sitting in an armchair, presumably in his living room. It’s the only thing remotely nice about it; his small television is resting on a cardboard box. He’s wearing the suit and the same pensive look as earlier. His name--_ Grantaire, Resident-- _flashes at the bottom of the screen. He’s holding a pipe.]_

_Grantaire: When it all started? Since I moved in, I think. Lights flickering. Stove burners turning on by themselves. Weird sounds in the middle of the night. ‘666 Hail Satan Submit To The Void The Beast Rises And He Will Consume All’ appearing on my wall, written in blood. That was probably the most worrying thing, now that I think about it._

_[A new shot, still of Grantaire. He’s painting now, for some reason. His voiceover picks back up again.]_

_Voiceover: Legend has it that the former owner killed himself out of loneliness fifty years ago on Halloween night. But he never really...left._

_[Dramatic piano riff. During all this, there is a montage of shots of Grantaire. Grantaire, folding laundry;  Grantaire, lifting weights shirtless in the living room; Grantaire, vacuuming, still inexplicably shirtless. He is flexing much more than is necessary for such a menial task.]_

_[Cut back to chair.]_

_Grantaire, shaking his head: Unnatural stuff happens here. You gotta see it to believe it._

* * *

Courfeyrac picked up the remote and paused the video. "Holy shit, you guys," he said, "this goes on for an hour." He fast-forwarded through some more scenes, mostly of Grantaire in the armchair, some dramatic zooms, Grantaire cooking dinner (still shirtless, for some reason), and hit play when it picked up in what was presumably his bedroom--a depressingly small room with a blow-up mattress resting on a futon.

* * *

_Grantaire: It would mean the world to me if you guys could come out here. I’m a huge fan._

_[As Grantaire begins to talk, the camera starts to zoom in on the poster. It’s a homemade_ Ghost Amis _poster, from one of the promo photos, except Combeferre and Courfeyrac have been cut out of the shot so it’s just Enjolras standing there with his arms crossed intensely.]_

_Grantaire, off camera: Eponine!_

_[Cut back to Grantaire looking serious.]_

_Grantaire: Please help me, Ghost Amis._

_[Tape ends.]_

* * *

 

Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Enjolras sat in silence for a few moments.

“Let’s do this guy,” said Enjolras, at the same time Combeferre muttered “Jesus Christ.”

Combeferre, who had buried his face in his hands at around the second shirtless shot of Grantaire to prevent himself from letting out an anguished cry, finally looked up and turned to Enjolras with an eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but _what_ part of that was _remotely_ convincing?”

Enjolras looked miffed at the attack on his skills of discernment. Before he could respond, Courfeyrac jumped in. “No, no, I agree,” he said. “No one’s ever sent in a video before. It was cool as shit.”

“Did we watch the same video?” said Combeferre, incredulous.

“Look, bonus points for creativity,” said Courfeyrac. “It beats the fifty-million blurry orb photos we usually get.” He looked pointedly at Enjolras out of the side of his eye—Enjolras, who, in contrast to Combeferre, _hadn’t been able to look away_ from Grantaire. Combeferre seemed to catch Courf’s drift, at any rate, because he rolled his eyes.

“One sec,” said Courfeyrac, and pulled Combeferre into the hallway.

“Why are you--”

“We’re colluding, okay,” Courf hissed. “This is a collusion as of right now.”

“I never agreed to collude with you, Courfeyrac” Combeferre protested.

“Being my roommate automatically means you have to collude with me in any and all situations, okay, it’s common roommate courtesy,” said Courf. “Also, it’s in the official roommate agreement, man, the Courfeyrac Collusion Clause. You signed it. Enjolras signed it. We made a blood pact.” It was only partially a blood pact, and only because Courf got a papercut right before they shook hands on the rent agreement, but he still insisted that it would stand as a blood pact in a court of occult law. Combeferre and Enjolras didn’t know enough about occult law, or whether or not such a thing even existed, to fight him on this.

Combeferre closed his eyes. Damn him and the roommate agreement, he was right. “I’ll listen to what you have to say,” he held up a finger, “ _provided_ you stop saying _collusion_ and any forms thereof immediately.”

Courfeyrac mimed zipping his lips and gave him a thumbs up. He peered around the doorway to make sure Enjolras hadn’t decided to look for them. He hadn’t; he was too engrossed in rewatching Grantaire’s submission video.

“Okay,” Courf said. “So, that video was a trip and a _half_. Super cool, though.”

“‘Cool’?” It had used PowerPoint transitions.

“That guy Grantaire clearly wants to bone Enjolras. And hear me out,” said Courf, lowering his voice, “I think _Enjolras_ wants to bone him _back_.”

“ _No_ ,” said Combeferre. “I know where you’re going with this and I’m putting a stop to it. We are paranormal investigators, Courfeyrac. We’re _professionals._ Our viewers expect _professionalism._ We are not--playing _matchmaker_ for Enjolras and some guy with iMovie.”

“Okay but,” said Courfeyrac, “one, the Clause, two, I already texted the groupchat five seconds into the video and everyone else is on board, so you lose.” Combeferre groaned, and Courfeyrac smiled. “Three, come on, it’ll be super fun _regardless_ of whether or not that dude’s apartment is actually haunted, and w e don't even have to interfere, we can just let them get together on their own. When’s the last time Enjolras was actually _interested in someone_?” He paused. “...That hasn’t been dead for decades and has a corporeal form?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Combeferre sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “But if the network drops us after this I’m moving out so I don’t have to _collude_ with you ever again.”

Courf punched the air. “ _Both_ of us will have to move out anyway, because thanks to us Enjolras his new boyfriend are going to be having _so much sex_ we can’t sleep,” he said, and then immediately made a face.

Combeferre matched his expression. “I’m shaking with anticipation,” he said, sounding very much like someone who was not shaking with anticipation.

Courfeyrac slapped him on the shoulder and bounded back into Headquarters. “Enjolras! Good news.”

* * *

_My name is Enjolras. I never believed in ghosts until I came face to face with one. So I set out on a quest to capture what I once saw onto video. With no big camera crews following us around, I am joined only by my fellow investigator Courfeyrac and our equipment tech Combeferre. The three of us will travel to some of the most highly active paranormal locations, where we will spend an entire night, being locked down from dusk until dawn....Raw...Extreme...We are the Ghost Amis._

**_Ghost Amis_ ** **Van**

**September 30th, 7:30 am:**

_[The shot opens on Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Bahorel, and Feuilly riding in the_ Ghost Amis _van. Enjolras is driving.]_

_Enjolras: So what do you guys know about 72 Hugo Boulevard?_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): Today, in a special Halloween episode, we’re travelling to an old apartment complex in New York with reported highly active paranormal activity, at the request of a man who lives there.]_

_Combeferre, rifling through his notebook: The complex was built in 1923 as a small hotel, but was converted into apartments in the early 50s after the original owners went bankrupt. They’ve been fairly cheap apartments ever since, though the building hasn’t been regularly repaired or maintained since the 90s._

_Enjolras: And about our ghost?_

_Combeferre: Mostly what our host told us--that in 1967, on Halloween night, the former owner--a young man--killed himself in what’s now his apartment from sheer loneliness._

_[As he speaks, a dramatic reenactment flashes onscreen: a man walking around a living room, alone, looking out a window, alone, sitting on the edge of a bed and beginning to cry. The shot cuts back to the car right as the dramatic reenactment-man picks up a gun.]_

_Combeferre: I wasn’t able to find a name for the man, or age, if it really even_ was _a suicide, but there_ is _a reported death in that apartment for that year on Halloween night._

_[Voiceover (Enj.): Could this be our ghost, doomed to wander the place he died in for an eternity simply because he sought relief from a lonely existence?_

_Another dramatic reenactment flashes onscreen: The same man, now done up with pale makeup and semi-translucent, wanders down a hallway, crying._

_Voiceover (Enj.): We’re going to find out.]_

* * *

**72 Hugo Boulevard**

**September 30th, 10:17 am:**

Grantaire looked more or less the same as he did in his _Ghost Amis_ submission video, but he wasn’t shirtless or wearing a tux this time. He was still wearing the beanie, though. He lingered a little awkwardly next to the team’s van while Feuilly and Bahorel unloaded the recording equipment from the trunk, hands shoved into his pockets. Occasionally, Bahorel would laugh at something he said and shoot back with a remark of his own, and Grantaire would smile.

Enjolras catalogued this all very carefully from where he was hiding behind a tree a short distance away, watching. To gather intel about their host. Who was getting awfully close to Bahorel, if Enjolras was noticing correctly.

“Bro,” said Courfeyrac from over Enjolras’s shoulder, making him jump, “stop lurking and say hello. We’re his idols. Maybe he’ll swoon and you’ll have to catch him.”

“I’m _not_ lurking,” said Enjolras, lurking. He scowled and straightened up his shoulders.

“I really wish he’d worn the tuxedo,” Courf said, peeking out behind Enjolras’s shoulder. “It was very flattering on him, don’t you agree?” He glanced at Enjolras out of the corner of his eye. “Bahorel does anyway, I talked to him about it and--”

Enjolras made a distressed sound and stalked over to Grantaire as coolly as he could manage. Grantaire’s eyes snapped to him almost immediately, and he beamed.

“Hi!” he exclaimed. “Bahorel and Feuilly were showing me how the night vision stuff worked. I’m Grantaire, by the way, it’s so cool to meet you.” He lowered his voice purposefully. “I’m a _big_ fan of yours.”

Enjolras nodded, cool and aloof. He’d put on sunglasses to achieve the effect, despite the fact that it’d been overcast all week. “It’s always nice to meet fans of the show,” he said. He turned to Feuilly. “Can we get started? I’ve got a really good feeling about the energy of this place. It’s…” He waved his hands around to find the right word. “ _Intense_.”

Feuilly shut the battery compartment of his camera and gave Enjolras a thumbs up. “All set here. Introductions and walk-through?”

At Enjolras’s nod, Grantaire clapped his hands together.  “Cool,” he said, beaming with excitement. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

**72 Hugo Boulevard**

**September 30th, 11:04 am:**

_[The shot opens on Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire standing on the driveway of the apartment building. Enjolras looks serious; Courfeyrac looks vaguely amused; Combeferre looks long-suffering; Grantaire has his hands in his pockets.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): When we arrive at Hugo Boulevard, we meet with the owner of the apartment we’ll be investigating today, Grantaire, outside of the complex.]_

_Enjolras: Hi, Grantaire?_

_[Grantaire nods, and shakes Enjolras’s hand.]_

_Grantaire: The one and only. [He gives Enjolras a clear appreciative once-over, not letting go of his hand.] You look_ much _different than you do on TV._

_Enjolras: I could say the same for you._

_[Combeferre clears his throat.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): The owner, Grantaire, contacted us a few weeks ago, describing hearing footsteps, electronics and appliances turning on and off on their own, and threatening messages appearing on the walls written in blood. When I mention the last one to him, Grantaire looks visibly shaken.]_

_Enjolras: Can I just say—Grantaire, when I brought up the threatening messages, you shivered, you turned very pale. Can I--?_

_[He reaches out and feels Grantaire’s arm. Grantaire looks a little flustered.]_

_Enjolras: --and you have goosebumps. How can you possibly feel safe enough to sleep here every night?_

_Grantaire, nodding seriously: And alone, totally alone. Because I’m single, in case you didn’t know. But, Enjolras, that’s the thing. I_ don’t _feel safe here._

_Enjolras: Listen to me, Grantaire. You and I are going to change that together._

_[Enjolras’s hand lingers on his arm.]_

_Courfeyrac: ...And help with the ghost thing, too._

_[Quick cut. New shot: the empty stairway of the apartment.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): We ask Grantaire to give us a tour and describe the terrors he's experienced in greater detail.]_

_[Shot: Enjolras and Grantaire walking up the stairs to the apartment, with Combeferre and Courfeyrac following. Every now and then, Grantaire falls a little behind. He is very clearly checking out Enjolras's ass.]_

_Grantaire: --It's pretty much everything I've already mentioned, you know. Weird sounds, stuff turning on and off, I woke up to chanting one time too._

_[As he speaks, dramatic reenactments flash across scene: a blender switching on and off, hooded figures chanting loudly, a scream echoing down a dark hallway.]_

_Combeferre: Chanting?_

_Grantaire: Yeah, like? Offering up newborns to Satan and unleashing the beast of the pit and crap like that. I assumed I'd left the TV on at first. Oh, this is me._

_[He pulls out his keys and points towards the apartment door. The camera focuses on Grantaire’s apartment number; one of the nails is a little loose on the second number.]_

_Enjolras, visibly shaken: 66... that's only one 6 off from 666, guys..._

**_[Ghost Amis Factoid: The number 666 is traditionally associated with the devil.]_ **

_[Courfeyrac's hand comes into view; he slowly rotates the loose "6" up into a "9"; Enjolras starts to yell at him when the shot cuts abruptly, and then the footage picks up in the living room]_

_[It is very dark and dusty, with only a little bit of light coming through the drawn curtains of the window. There are a few pizza boxes stacked up on the only chair in the room, the armchair from Grantaire’s video. A television sits on the floor across from the chair. There is a small bookcase with exactly two books resting on its top shelf: a pristine copy of_ The MLA Handbook _and a thin, clearly self-published book of ghost stories about a local university, presumably Grantaire’s alma mater_ . _On the shelf below it is every single season of_ Ghost Amis _on DVD stacked up, as well as seven copies of_ 2 Fast 2 Furious, _all from Blockbuster._ ]

_Courfeyrac:_ Fast and Furious _fan?_

_[Grantaire shakes his head.]_

_Grantaire: No._

_[Grantaire says nothing else. Courfeyrac nods slowly. Combeferre, meanwhile, begins scanning the area with an EMF detector. Enjolras picks up the book of hauntings about the university, intrigued, and tries to flip through it. It’s hollow. An empty flask falls out. Enjolras picks it up.]_

_Enjolras, clearly disappointed: Oh._

_Grantaire: I know, sorry. [He takes the flask.] I’ve been meaning to refill it._

_Combeferre, watching the readings come in: What kind of activity have you noticed in here, Grantaire?_

_Grantaire: Oh, you know. The TV turns itself on sometimes, and at night--_

_[The EMF detector begins beeping loudly. Combeferre holds up a hand to stop him talking. He points to the stack of pizza boxes.]_

_Combeferre: There’s something over there._

_[The camera pans to the boxes. Enjolras, Grantaire, Courfeyrac, and Combeferre all stand very still; the detector begins beeping faster. All of a sudden, a dark shape bursts out from the boxes, making a horrible hissing and yowling noise. Courfeyrac swears loudly; Combeferre jumps back; Enjolras instinctively leaps protectively in front of Grantaire.]_

_Courfeyrac: [_ **_censored_ ** _]! Dude, what the [_ **_censored_ ** _]!_

_Enjolras: What was--?!_

_[It is a large striped cat. Grantaire exclaims with delight and picks it up.]_

_Grantaire: There you are! [He pets it for a few seconds, then holds it out to Enjolras.] Enjolras, meet Enjolras Jr._

_[_ **DEBUNKED: CAT** _flashes onscreen.]_

_[Enjolras looks at it warily. Courfeyrac and Combeferre are still shaking.]_

**_[Ghost Amis Factoid: Courfeyrac is allergic to cats, so his reaction was valid. Combeferre's was not.]_ **

_Enjolras: You...named your cat after me?_

_[It’s hard to tell in the light, but he looks as though he’s blushing.]_

* * *

“Don’t tell him you named your cat after him,” said Eponine. They were hunched over her laptop, editing Grantaire’s submission video; they’d downloaded a free trial of Adobe Premiere for this express purpose. “That’s totally creepy.”

“Uh, he’ll think it’s _totally romantic_ ,” said Grantaire, steadily making his way through an entire box of pizza rolls. “I would.”

Eponine looked up from the laptop and raised an eyebrow. “Grantaire, you dated that guy for three months just because he snuck you the senior discount at the movie theater. I think your perception of romance is a little skewed.” She reached for a pizza roll, and Grantaire swatted her hand away.

“Listen,” he said, holding the plate above her head, “there is nothing sexier than seeing _The Force Awakens_ four times for three-fourths of the cost. Or naming your cat after someone. I’m gonna tell him.”

“Whatever,” she said. She highlighted a chunk of footage and moved it over. “In other news, this video is fucking _incredible_ , I should win an Oscar for it.”

“Put an acoustic cover of ‘Careless Whisper’ in the background,” said Grantaire. “That makes everything classier. And sexier. Really sets the mood.” Eponine lunged for a pizza roll.

* * *

_Grantaire, winking: Because he’s cute, just like you._

_[But Enjolras has moved on; he’s looking at the EMF detector. Grantaire looks mildly disappointed. Enjolras lowers the detector after a few moments and lays a hand on Grantaire’s arm once again.]_

_Enjolras, gently: Grantaire, if you feel like it won’t upset you--can we see where you saw the message?_

_[Voiceover (Enj).: When Grantaire contacted us, he described the message “666 Hail Satan Submit To The Void The Beast Rises And He Will Consume All” written on his wall in blood.]_

_[Shot: dramatic reenactment of the sign on the wall, with blood dripping down from the letters. There is, inexplicably, another scream.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): This is troubling for a number of reasons, as writing in blood is usually a clear indicator of a malicious entity.]_

_[Grantaire puts his hand over Enjolras’s. He sighs, and nods.]_

_Grantaire: I think I can manage, with_ you _here. [He glances up at Combeferre and Courfeyrac.] And you too, of course._

_[New shot: the four of them are walking out of the room and down the hallway that leads to Grantaire’s bedroom. Grantaire pauses in front of a blank wall directly opposite a small closet.]_

_Grantaire: So this is where--_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): What happened next chilled us all to the bone.]_

_[Grantaire is cut off as there is suddenly a loud shriek from the hall closet, followed by pounding on the closet door. The camera whirls around to focus on that instead.]_

_Enjolras: [_ **_censored_ ** _]!_

_Courfeyrac: Dude, what the [_ **_censored_ ** _]!_

_[The shrieking and pounding immediately stop. Enjolras rushes forward and yanks the door open. There is nothing in there except for a small wrapper on the floor. The camera zooms in on it.]_

_Bahorel, behind the camera: Is that...a Fruit Roll-Up?_

_[Combeferre begins taking readings of the Fruit Roll-Up wrapper.]_

_[The footage of the knocking and the screaming replays a few times, twice in slow motion.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): It is barely half an hour into our investigation and we have already had an intense encounter with the entity in Grantaire’s apartment. As Grantaire lives alone and our entire crew was accounted for, there was no possible way for anyone to make that noise, so we are able to conclude that this_ cannot _be debunked.]_

* * *

“--Just like, hide in the crawlspace in the closet and moan and shit, bang pipes around or something, I don’t know,” said Grantaire. “Draw Satanic crap on the walls.”

“I’ll do it,” said Gavroche. “ _But_.” He dragged out the silence. “it won’t come cheap.”

Grantaire groaned, and fumbled around in his jeans pocket for his wallet. “I’m just as broke as you are, cut me some--”

Gavroche held up a hand, and Grantaire stilled. “Not in money,” he said. “I want full range of whatever snacks you have for a year. And I don’t mean that weird generic crap that Eponine keeps buying either,” he added quickly. “I want Fruit Roll-Ups and Oreos and Twinkies and I want them _name brand_.”

“You filthy little _capitalist_ ,” hissed Grantaire, “they taste the _exact same_ .” When Gavroche folded his arms, Grantaire relented, jamming his wallet back into his jeans. “ _Fine_. I hope you choke on the price difference.”

* * *

_Grantaire, extremely blasé: Man, how spooky._

_[Voiceover (Enj.): We decide to do an impromptu EVP session to try to communicate with whatever it was that we just heard.]_

_[Courfeyrac pulls out a spirit box. He turns it on and steps into the closet.]_

_Courfeyrac, loudly over the static: Was that you who just made all that noise?_

_[No response. Enjolras steps in behind him.]_

_Enjolras: Is there something you want to say to us? Are you angry that we’re here? Are you angry that Grantaire is living in your apartment? Can you talk to us?_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): After we continue to yield no EVP results, we decide to move on. We quickly set up Nerve Central in Grantaire’s living room, and then we all proceed to Grantaire’s kitchen.]_

_[Shot: Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Enjolras, and Grantaire standing in the kitchen. Grantaire is lounging against one of the counters.]_

_Grantaire: So, yeah, I don’t notice as much activity in here, but there’s still something. I’ll walk in and find cupboard doors that I know I left closed open, and my burners will switch all the way off while I’m cooking or boiling something. Plates will randomly, like, explode too, which kinda sucks._

_[As he speaks, there is another dramatic reenactment: cupboards slamming open on their own, plates flying and shattering against a wall. Again, there is inexplicably a high-pitched scream.]_

_Grantaire: But where it gets_ really _crazy is my bedroom._

_Enjolras: Is that where you notice the height of the activity of the spirit?_

_Grantaire: Oh, yeah, like--shadows standing over me at night, weird voices, vibrating bed--_

_Courfeyrac: Vibrating bed?_

_Enjolras, very seriously: I’d like to see your bed, Grantaire._

_Grantaire: Take a guy to dinner first. [He winks, but it doesn’t seem to register with Enjolras, who has opened one of the dish cabinets. Grantaire heaves a sigh.]_

_[Quick cut. New shot: Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, and Grantaire walking down the hallway to Grantaire’s bedroom.]_

_Grantaire: --yeah, so, the bed. I’m sleeping one night, right, and suddenly it just starts to shake like_ crazy. _Like there’s an earthquake. It went on for a couple of minutes and then just stopped._

_[While he’s speaking, there’s a dramatic reenactment of a guy who looks nothing like Grantaire sitting, terrified, in a bed that looks nothing like Grantaire's, while it shakes violently.]_

_Combeferre: How frequently does this happen?_

_Grantaire: Once a week? I’ve gotten used to it. It’s actually very relaxing._

_[He pushes open the door to his bedroom. There is nothing but the sad-looking futon and a throw rug, as well as the homemade_  Ghost Amis  _poster_ . _Enjolras walks over tests the futon with a hand. He sits down on it.]_

_Enjolras: What time do the vibrations usually start?_

_Grantaire: Uh. Early morning? After midnight._

_Enjolras, humming in thought: I’d like to stay in here for the lockdown, then, to see if we can capture it on film. In the meantime--Combeferre, can we do another test for EVP?_

* * *

Marius had exactly two jobs required of him in his internship-turned-sort-of-job for _Ghost Amis_ via the Travel Channel: one, deliver the mail in a timely fashion, and two, deliver coffee during investigations in an even more timely fashion. He was very good at the first, but only somewhat good at the latter, as he had a tendency to get distracted by Cosette and disappear in the hair and makeup trailer for an hour to swoon over her while she organized brushes.

He was late for that reason today, and he hurried up the stairs with a four-cup travel carrier in his left hand and another cup in his right, all while somehow texting Courfeyrac a million apologetic-looking emojis. He managed to balance all five cups long enough to shove the door to the apartment open.

“Sorry I’m late!” he called. “I lost track of time!”

There was no one within eyesight, so Marius began to trek down the hall. The apartment was, truly, unfathomably creepy, between the sheer amount of cobwebs everywhere and the complete lack of decorations. The lightbulb overhead flickered ominously. Marius clutched the coffees tighter.

“Enjolras?” he called. The light finally gave out, and he was thrust into complete darkness. Marius gave a quiet squeak. Then, ahead, in the shadows, something moved.

Marius hadn’t been especially eager for the _Ghost Amis_ internship, and he certainly hadn’t been eager to continue on with the legwork required of it (but now with a paycheck attached) after he graduated. Horror movies gave him nightmares; paranormal stuff made him nervous. If he were Enjolras or Combeferre or Courfeyrac, he’d _want_ whatever was sharing the hallway with him to be a spirit. As he was Marius, he stood watching the shadows move for four minutes, rooted in fear and unable to speak, until he was finally able to swipe up on his phone and turn the flashlight on. Hand shaking, Marius flashed it in the direction of the figure, which seemed to vanish before the light could hit it. Instead, the wall was illuminated, and Marius was able to see exactly what the figure had been doing.

* * *

_[Voiceover (Enj.): ...Just after we finish up yet another disappointing EVP session, something happens that chills us to the bone.]_

_[Shot: Grantaire’s bedroom. Combeferre loading their spirit box equipment back into their cases. Suddenly, there is a loud, shrill scream from the hallway outside. All six freeze.]_

_Courfeyrac: What was--?!_

_[They immediately run out towards the source. Enjolras, it should be noted, makes sure Grantaire is at his side before doing so.]_

_[Bahorel and Feuilly follow Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire out to the hallway, where a young man is standing, surrounded by spilled coffee cups.]_

_Enjolras: Marius?_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): The scream turns out to be that of our personal assistant, Marius, who--while on an errand for us--became a target of the malicious entity in Grantaire’s apartment as well.]_

_[Marius looks like he’s about to cry. He shines his phone’s flashlight between the six others and visibly relaxes when he recognizes the_ Ghost Amis _crew.]_

_Enjolras: Marius, what happened?_

_Courfeyrac, irritated: Did you spill_ all _the coffees?_

_Marius: I was just--walking down the hall to find you and the lights went out and--!_

_[He points to the wall, the same one that had the message written on it that Grantaire mentioned. The camera turns to it. Written in dripping red letters is “Hail Satin 666”.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): This is now the second threatening message that has appeared on the wall of Grantaire’s apartment, and the first that the team is witness to. Like the mysterious screaming in the closet, as all of the team is accounted for and there is no one else in Grantaire’s apartment, we cannot possibly debunk this.]_

_Enjolras: [_ **_censored_ ** _]!_

_Bahorel: Dude! [_ **_censored_ ** _]!_

_Courfeyrac: I feel very welcome here._

_Combeferre: I’m sorry--Satin? Hail_ Satin _?_

_Grantaire, mildly: I know. I’m a corduroy man myself._

_Enjolras, over walkie talkie: Joly? Bossuet? Can you review the footage of the hallway outside Grantaire’s bedroom? Holy [_ **_censored_ ** _]._

_[Marius is still shaking. Unbeknownst to Enjolras, Courfeyrac looks guiltily at Combeferre.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): We head outside to the van to look over the footage Joly and Bossuet pulled from the hallway for us. It soon becomes clear that this entity is even more powerful than we possibly imagined. Watch the footage very closely.]_

_[Shot: the hallway right before the_ Ghost Amis _team finds Marius. The wall is blank. Marius begins to walk down, calling for Enjolras; suddenly, the overhead light turns off. A figure begins to move in front of the wall, and it gone by the time Marius turns on his flashlight--replaced with the message. Marius screams.]_

_Voiceover (Enj.): There appears to be something moving at the base of the wall immediately before the message appears._

_[The footage replays, but this time in slow motion, and with a yellow circle drawn around the figure; the footage replays twice more.]_

* * *

“So,” said Courfeyrac, while Enjolras sat inside the van with Bossuet and Joly and obsessively rewound the footage from the hallway. Slightly further away from them, Marius sat on the steps of the hair and makeup trailer, wrapped in one of Bahorel’s sweaters and Cosette’s arms. He was refusing to go back inside the apartment. “There’s a _slight_ chance I may have forgotten to clue Marius in on the fact that there _maybe_ isn’t actually a ghost here.”

“I thought you said you texted the groupchat?” said Combeferre. “Though, that would explain why he’s crying.”

“You know how it is,” said Courfeyrac, waving a hand flippantly. “Sometimes you forget to include someone on the recipient list and they accidentally find messages written in blood. It happens.”

“Speaking of which,” Combeferre mused, “Grantaire must’ve hired someone to act as his personal ghost, right?”

“You sound awfully close-minded,” said Courfeyrac, “for someone who builds ghost-hunting equipment out of toasters for a living. It could just be a really incompetent ghost. Or, or, maybe this is some _Sixth Sense_ scenario and _Grantaire_ was the ghost all along. Holy shit, new theory. That is definitely it.”

“Enjolras has finally found his dream man,” Combeferre deadpanned.

Courfeyrac snickered. “Blockbuster had Grantaire assassinated ten years ago after he went on a serial _Fast and Furious_ renting spree and didn’t pay his late fees. They sent the fearsome Blockbuster goons out after him.”

“Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth,” Combeferre said, mock-seriously, “blood for a subpar action-thriller sequel.”

“The Blockbuster mission statement,” Courfeyrac said, and then waved to Enjolras over Combeferre’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go look at the footage and be appropriately amazed for the camera.”

* * *

Meanwhile, under the same tree that Enjolras had been lurking behind earlier, Grantaire was meeting covertly with his personal ghost.

“‘Hail Satin’,” Grantaire said.

“It was dark and that intern guy surprised me!” Gavroche protested by whisper. “I didn’t have enough time to proofread.” He crossed his arms defensively. “Anyway, if you wanted better spelling you should’ve bought me more than one box of Rice Krispy Treats. Cheapskate.”

“I’ll just make some bullshit up about the ghost being illiterate or something,” Grantaire muttered, ignoring Gavroche. “Or a former Joann Fabrics employee.” He peeked out around the tree and suddenly stiffened. He swatted at Gavroche. “Wait, shit, go, it looks like they’re about to come back for the lockdown. I can take it from here.”

“Good luck. Hail Satin,” Gavroche said, bowing solemnly, before fleeing into the dusk.

* * *

**LOCKDOWN**

**Grantaire’s Apartment**

**12:05 am:**

_[Voiceover (Enj.): The sun set several hours ago, we’ve prepared our equipment, and it is now officially time to begin our Lockdown. As I’ve previously decided, I set up camp in Grantaire’s room, as that’s where the height of activity seems to be. Grantaire is joining me there. Courfeyrac, meanwhile, will camp out at Nerve Central in the living room, while Feuilly and Bossuet take the kitchen, and Combeferre stays in the hallway where the terrifying messages were written.]_

* * *

**Grantaire’s Bedroom**

**12:13 am:**

_[Shot: Camera in night mode. Through a crack in Grantaire’s bedroom door Enjolras and Grantaire can be seen, Enjolras sitting on a sleeping bag on the floor and Grantaire on the futon. They are speaking in quiet voices.]_

_Grantaire, lounging across the bed: It’s so_ brave _of you to stay here with me to protect me, Enjolras, but I can’t imagine the floor is very comfortable._

_Enjolras, with obviously false bravado: Comfort isn’t in the line of Ghost Amis duty, Grantaire. We’ve slept in caves before. In the woods. Without tents. It’s all to keep you safe._

_[Grantaire shifts to face Enjolras, so he’s partially hanging off the bed]_

_Grantaire: I think I would feel even_ safer _if you were up_ here _, though. [He pats the spot next to him, slowly.] It’s not very big, so we’d have to squeeze, but...you could feel those infamous bed vibrations._

_[Enjolras pauses for a moment before quickly wriggling out of the sleeping bag and jumping up next to Grantaire on the futon.]_

_Enjolras: It's my_ Ghost Amis _duty._

_Grantaire, voice low: Win-win._

* * *

Outside, in the tech van, Joly hovered his laptop cursor anxiously over the button to cut the camera feed to Grantaire’s bedroom. Enjolras and Grantaire were getting...uncomfortably close on the futon. “I don’t know if we can, like, legally stop the feed,” Joly fretted. “Should we text him?”

“Text him what?” said Bossuet, stretching; they’d been cramped up in the van for nearly three hours, and Marius was too terrified to return with more coffee. The glamorous life of being the resident tech experts. “‘Don’t whip your dick out unless you want the Travel Channel to copyright it?’”

Joly broke into hysterical giggles. “I’m nominating you to be the one to edit it out if he does.”

* * *

**Living Room**

**12:23 am:**

_[Shot: camera in night mode. Courfeyrac is rifling through Grantaire’s DVD selection.]_

_Courfeyrac, muttering into a walkie-talkie:_ Every single box is empty, Combeferre _. How is this even, like, statistically possible. Do you think he kept losing the discs or something? Wait, there’s--_

_[He opens the last_ 2 Fast 2 Furious _box in the row.]_

_Courfeyrac:_ How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days _? What the [_ **_censored_ ** _]? [Frantically.] Combeferre, I think this guy might actually be a serial killer, holy [_ **_censored_ ** _]._

_[Combeferre’s voice comes in through static over the walkie talkie.]_

_Combeferre, mildly: I thought you were a fan of McConaughey’s work?_

**_[Ghost Amis Factoid: Courfeyrac does not mind the occasional Matthew McConaughey film.]_ **

_Courfeyrac: Look, we_ both _cried during_ Interstellar--

_[There is a rustling noise somewhere off camera. Courfeyrac screams and throws his walkie-talkie in that direction, whipping the camera around too just in time to catch Grantaire’s cat darting away, hissing loudly.]_

_[ **DEBUNKED: CAT** flashes onscreen again.] _

_Courfeyrac, whispering: I'm going to die tonight._

* * *

**Kitchen**

**12:45 am:**

_[Shot: camera in night mode. Feuilly and Bahorel are going through the cupboards, each with their own camera. Bahorel is investigating the pantry; when he opens the door, every single shelf is lined with boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. There are at least thirty boxes.]_

_Bahorel: That is--_ so many _._

_[Feuilly picks one box up and looks at the back. Then another. And another.]_

_Feuilly: They’re all...expired?_

_Bahorel: Where are we._

* * *

**Hallway**

**1:02 am:**

_[Shot: camera in night mode. Combeferre is standing in the hallway, scanning the writing on the wall with an EMF detector. He hums, thoughtfully, and then pulls out a spirit box. He turns it on.]_

_Combeferre: We wish to communicate with whatever entity lives in this apartment._

_[Static.]_

_Combeferre: Can you say something to us?_

_[Static.]_

* * *

**Living Room**

**1:05 am:**

_[Shot: night mode. Courfeyrac is also trying the spirit box.]_

_Courfeyrac: Is there a spirit in this room with me? [He pauses.] Are you possessing the cat?_

_[Static.]_

* * *

**Grantaire’s Bedroom**

**1:21 am:**

_[Shot: Night mode. Still through a crack in the door. Enjolras and Grantaire are sharing the duvet and talking in low whispers.]_

_Enjolras: --and it turned out Combeferre and Courfeyrac were interested in the paranormal, too, and the rest just happened. When did your interest start?_

_Grantaire: Oh, uh, around the beginning of your show. To tell you the truth, Enjolras, I’m still a bit of a skeptic. [He leans a little closer.] But you’re certainly changing that._

_[Enjolras seems a little surprised, but not unpleasantly so. He and Grantaire share eye contact for a prolonged period. Then, suddenly, the motion detector in front of the closet goes off; Enjolras shoots straight up in bed and hurries over to it. Grantaire, in the background, heaves a sigh and falls back against the pillows.]_

_Enjolras, via walkie talkie: Combeferre, Courfeyrac, the sensor just picked something up in Grantaire’s bedroom, get in here_ now _._

_Courfeyrac, over the walkie talkie: It’s probably just that [_ **_censored_ ** _] cat again._

_[Voiceover (Enj.): But it was not Grantaire’s cat. Watch the footage very carefully: the motion detector does not appear to have been set off by anything_ visible _.]_

_[The footage replays. Enjolras and Grantaire are getting progressively closer when, suddenly, the detector begins beeping. The footage zooms in on the closet door and a yellow circle pops up around the motion detector box as it replays again: there is absolutely nothing there, not even a shadow. This plays a few more times.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): We debunk the idea of it being an insect, as our technology is extremely advanced and does not pick up anything that small. When Combeferre and Courfeyrac arrive, we prepare for one more EVP session in the hopes that we might finally get lucky…]_

* * *

“Should we tell him the motion sensor’s faulty?” Joly said, wringing his hands. “I feel like we should tell him. I didn’t mean to give him that one in the first place and now _this_ whole thing is happening…”

Bossuet shrugged. “He’ll figure it out eventually.” But probably not.

* * *

_[Voiceover (Enj.): ...After all of our EVP sessions have failed, we decide to try one last attempt to communicate with the entity--through a Ouija board. Grantaire and I set one up in his bedroom and hope for the best, so that we can finally help this spirit move on.]_

* * *

 

**Grantaire’s Bedroom**

**1:50 am:**

_[Shot: night mode. Enjolras and Grantaire sitting on top of Grantaire's futon. There is a Ouija board between them. They both have their hands on the planchette.]_

**_[Ghost Amis Factoid: Exercise extreme caution when using Ouija boards at home.]_ **

_Enjolras: Is there a spirit in here that wishes to communicate with us?_

_[The planchette does not move.]_

_Enjolras: Were you the one who wrote the messages on the wall and set the motion sensor off in Grantaire's bedroom?_

_[It still does not move.]_

_Enjolras: Can you say something to us?_

_[Grantaire suddenly gasps as the planchette begins to move. He is obviously manipulating it. It starts to spell out a string of numbers.]_

_Grantaire, a little too dramatic: Enjolras, that's my phone number! You should write it down, just in case._

_Enjolras: Spirit, why are you giving us Grantaire's phone number?_

_[The planchette begins to move again.]_

_Enjolras, reading what it's spelling: U-R-C-U-T-E...? You are cute? [Following it move again.] W-I-L-L-U-G-O-O-U-T-W-I--_

_Grantaire, seriously, directly to the camera: You just can't make this stuff up._

_[Voiceover (Enj.), as the footage fast-forwards through the two using the board: Our Ouija board session continues to yield more and more strange results, all complimenting me to a certain degree. Yet none give us any insight into what the spirit could possibly want. We decide there's only one course of action we can possibly take: we need to call in our resident psychic, Jehan, to figure out exactly what this ghost needs to pass on.]_

* * *

"Okay," said Courfeyrac. "So here's the situation."

Jehan held up the hand he wasn't using to braid his hair. “I’m a psychic. I already know.”

* * *

**Grantaire’s Bedroom**

**2:31 am:**

_[Shot: Jehan walking into the apartment. He's decked out in elaborate shawls and strings of beads, his hair in a long braid. The second he crosses the threshold, he pauses and brings a hand to cover his eyes. He hums.]_

_Jehan, dramatically: So much pain here...so much suffering...so much loneliness... The spirit that wanders these halls just wants...to be_ loved _._

_Enjolras (distressed) and Grantaire (surprised): It does?_

_[Jehan hums again, longer this time. He flutters his hands around.]_

_Jehan: I sense...it has a great attachment to you, Enjolras. It seems to almost--love you._

_Grantaire: Uh. I think that’s a_ little _prema--_

_Enjolras: How can we_ help _it, Jehan? How can we help set it_ free _?_

_Jehan: Yes, yes, there is only one solution here that I can sense. [He opens his eyes.] Enjolras, you must woo the spirit with all your might so he can finally experience the love he never felt while he was alive. Only then can he move on._

_Enjolras: ...Woo?_

_Jehan: You must make him feel_ loved _._

_[Voiceover (Enj.), over a black-and-white shot of Enjolras standing alone, looking out the window, pensive: Can the spirit have possibly fallen in love with me, as Jehan sensed? Can I really set it free? With this shocking new information, Grantaire and I return to the Ouija board for one last attempt to communicate with the spirit.]_

* * *

**Grantaire’s Bedroom**

**2:46 am:**

_[Shot: Enjolras and Grantaire sitting on the futon again with the Ouija board. Both their hands are on the planchette. Jehan is standing in the doorway with Courfeyrac and Combeferre.]_

_Enjolras: Is the spirit that lives in Grantaire's apartment still with us?_

_[Grantaire looks vaguely bewildered, and amused. The planchette moves to yes.]_

_Enjolras: Good. [He clears his throat.] I think, you're, uh, an attractive ghost?_

_[The planchette moves to spell out W-H-Y.]_

_Enjolras: Uh. I like… [He looks at Grantaire, for inspiration.] ...your hair. And your eyes._

_Grantaire, flustered: I think the ghost probably likes that about you too. And your passion. And how brave you are. [He leans in.] I think he’d really like to get to know you better._

_Jehan, eyes closed again: It’s working, Enjolras…_

_Enjolras, a little more confidently: You don’t have to be unloved anymore, spirit. You don’t have to harm Grantaire. You can move on and never be alone again. I...care for you._

_[Voiceover (Enj.) as Jehan falls back, dramatically, into Courfeyrac’s arms: With that, the spirit seems to finally let go and move on. The weight of sadness over the apartment that was so palpable fades away. It is an incredibly emotional moment for all of us.]_

_[Shot: Enjolras tearing up while Grantaire looks bewildered.]_

_Grantaire: That’s...it, then?_

_[Enjolras pulls Grantaire into a hug.]_

_Enjolras: You’re finally free of the spirit, Grantaire._

_[Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Jehan share a look, but Enjolras releases Grantaire--who looks disappointed as well as bewildered now--and goes to hug the rest of the team.]_

_[The credits start to roll as moments from the episode replay: the screams from the closet, the writing on the wall, the motion sensor, the Ouija board, Jehan fainting. Meanwhile is Enjolras’s voiceover.]_

_[Voiceover (Enj.): The entity in Grantaire’s apartment was one of the most powerful forces we’ve come face to face with during our entire time on_ Ghost Amis. _The lonely and confused ghost of a lonely and confused man, we can only hope we’ve helped him seek peace in the afterlife, and that Grantaire will finally feel at peace in his apartment.]_

* * *

**Eponine’s Apartment**

**October 1st, 6:13 pm:**

“It didn’t work,” Grantaire said, miserably. He was sprawled out on the floor of Eponine’s bedroom and clutching an entire bottle of wine. “I mean, who looks at that video and thinks it’s legit? He must’ve known I was trying to bang him, right?”

“It was a _great_ video,” Eponine said, a touch defensively. “I did a really great job editing it. He was probably too distracted by how real it seemed to catch your implications.”

“We practically _spooned_ in my bed, Eponine,” Grantaire sighed, seemingly not hearing her. “He was picking up _all_ my double entendres, I know it. I flirted with him through a _Ouija board_. God, he probably thought I was so desperate, no wonder he hasn’t called me or anything. You were probably right about the cat thing, too.” He took a very long sip of wine.

Eponine swung herself down from her bed and kicked at Grantaire’s leg. Grantaire made a sad noise. “Come on,” Eponine said. “Let’s watch _How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days_ and forget all about this. I won’t even complain when you subject me to your shitty Matthew McConaughey impression the entire time.”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Grantaire said depressedly, and then drank the rest of the wine.

* * *

**_Ghost Amis_ ** **Headquarters (Bahorel’s Basement)**

**October 29th, 5:14 pm:**

“The ratings for the Hugo Boulevard episode were exceptionally high last night,” said Combeferre, tilting his laptop towards Enjolras to see the chart. “People seemed to really tune in around the halfway point, and they skyrocketed from there. We trended on Twitter, too.”

“Combeferre says _we_ ,” said Courfeyrac, as Enjolras scrolled down the page. “But he really means _you and Grantaire_.”

Enjolras looked up so fast Courf was surprised his neck didn’t snap. “Me and Grantaire?” he said, sharply. He clenched the sides of the laptop. Combeferre eased it away from him.

“People seemed convinced,” Combeferre said, slowly, “that you two--”

“--had the hots for each other,” Courfeyrac finished, with a grin. “A _large_ amount of people. Pretty much all the reaction tweets were about that, it made it a pain to sort through and find some variety to broadcast.” He pulled open the Twitter app on his phone, went to the _Ghost Amis_ hashtag, and passed it to Enjolras.

Enjolras’s face heated up as he read a few. “We didn’t really--why is everyone so convinced that--but nothing _happened_ in Grantaire’s bedroom,” he insisted. “And why is everyone so convinced that the ghost was fake, too?” He started to read one aloud. “‘Grantaire is a hero for faking that whole thing just to get in Enjolras’s--’”

“The editing left it a little ambiguous,” Courfeyrac supplied helpfully, “on both accounts.”

“Who did the editing, then?” Enjolras said, thrusting Courfeyrac’s phone back at him.

“I did,” said Courfeyrac, unabashed. “Look, just--just watch the finished episode.”

Forty-five minutes later, Enjolras sat with the Travel Channel website pulled up on Combeferre’s laptop, the Hugo Boulevard stream paused towards the end of the episode. He and Grantaire were on the screen, sitting on Grantaire’s bed and using the Ouija board. The Enjolras not on the screen had his face in his hands.

“Oh my God,” he groaned. Then, looking up at Courfeyrac and Combeferre-- “Oh my God. _Why did you let me air this_?”

“I had no willing part in this,” Combeferre said. “The Courfeyrac Co--”

“-llusion Clause, I know,” Enjolras sighed. He laid out on the sofa and pressed his face into a pillow. He let out an even deeper sigh. “He was flirting with me the entire time,” he said, voice muffled, “and I was too busy trying to impress him to notice.”

“I knew you liked him!” Courf said, triumphantly. “Okay, look, it’s not the end of the world. You know where Grantaire lives, just show up at his door or something and ask him out. It’d be like a rom com.”

Enjolras tapped his fingers furiously against his knee. “I could--do you think he’s even still interested?”

“He named his _cat_ after you,” said Courf.

Enjolras was silent for a few moments, then stood up. “I’m borrowing the van,” he said. “Don’t break anything while I’m gone.” He hurried up the basement stairs, and after a few moments, Courfeyrac and Combeferre heard Bahorel’s front door slam.

“You have told me on no less than three occasions,” said Combeferre, finally, “that the cat thing was weird and you’re pretty sure Grantaire has an Enjolras shrine behind a secret door in his walls somewhere. I am quoting you directly.”

“Different strokes for different folks,” Courfeyrac shrugged.

* * *

**Grantaire’s Apartment**

**October 29th, 9:18 PM:**

Grantaire awoke to a loud pounding on his front door. He jerked up in shock, and immediately rolled off his crappy sofa and onto the floor. He swore loudly when he hit the ground.

“What’s happening,” he said, groggily, and then less coherently, “who’s there.”

The knocking continued. Grantaire fumbled around the ground for the remote control to switch his TV off; it was stuck looping on the menu of _2 Fast 2 Furious_ , the DVD disc of which he’d miraculously found jammed under his oven a week prior. “I’m coming,” he said, through a yawn, and managed to stand up. The knocking didn’t stop until he pulled open his door, revealing a flushed and out-of-breath Enjolras, clutching to the doorframe to hold himself upright.

Grantaire blinked. He was fairly certain this was some sort of fever dream, or a weird hallucination brought on from passing out almost immediately after eating two boxes of expired Kraft mac and cheese. Either way, he’d see where it went. “Uh,” he said. “Hi. Enjolras.” He frowned. "Did--did you drive all the way here?"

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, looking remarkably composed for his current state. He brushed his sweaty hair out of his face. “I would like to take you out to dinner. Is that--would you like to do that?”

This was--not what he was expecting? Grantaire’s face split into a smile that was probably embarrassingly big. “Oh my God, yes.”

“It’s just,” Enjolras continued in a rush, “I wanted you to think I was--I was _cool_ , and you were--cute--and it wasn’t until I was watching the footage from your apartment that--” His face fell a little “--you compromised my credibility with how _obviously fake_ that all was, in retrospect--”

“Ok, in my defense I thought you knew,” Grantaire interrupted, hands held up. “I just thought you were into some weird ghost roleplay-foreplay shit. I wasn’t gonna judge.”

“You weren’t going to--” Enjolras made a strangled sound. His fingers tightened around the frame, and Grantaire thought for a moment he looked as though he might start laughing at the absurdity of it. Or start crying.

“So, cards on the table,” said Grantaire, as Enjolras pressed his face against the frame as well, “my apartment is not haunted, was never haunted, the guy that died there in '67 was like eighty and it was a heart attack and I bullshitted the rest, and I think you’re cute.” He decided to throw all caution into the wind, because he had no impulse control, and added, “Want to come inside and make out on my couch during a shitty movie?”

“Please,” said Enjolras, lifting his head up, “lead the way.”

Grantaire did just that.

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween!  
> find me on twitter under the same username if you're so inclined


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